Describe It
by seeyouontheice
Summary: so, what exactly is Janny feeling on this particular day?


Jonny's alarm was set for a respectable half eight in the morning, although he didn't get out of bed 'till nearer nine and that was only because his mother had sent his cousin David and Ollie upstairs to drag him, forcefully if needed, out of bed. Groaning Jonny pulled on last night's jeans and a ratty t-shirt before he then stumbled, bleary-eyed, down after the two men and slumped down into a chair at the table piled high with everything needed for a full English breakfast, complete with the occasional Scottish twist.

There were a lot of grins and rib nudging and winks as the guys all grinned and laughed at him as he was mothered by his mother. Surprisingly, as the only woman in the house, she managed to control the fifteen or so blokes that all clamoured around her demanding breakfast rather well. Ordering them all to 'shut up and sit down' Mrs Maconie then set about dishing out the crispy bacon and slightly burnt sausages – it wasn't even a question when she dished up the least blackened food to her son sitting and feeling rather queasy at the end of the long table.

Chirping on about how he had to 'keep up his strength' (typically the likes of Harry, Michael, Malick and Ollie started sniggering into their coffees) and that she wouldn't like it if he keeled over from lack of food, although privately Jonny thought he was probably going to do that anyway regardless of how much and what he ate. He didn't even have the distraction of Lou because she was 'with the girls' that morning. Pushing the food round his plate, Jonny sat and listened to the joyful banter of his colleagues and his family while his father sat watching him, chewing on his pipe (which was mercifully unlit).

When the doorbell rang about half nine, Jonny jumped up to get it and had disappeared out of the kitchen before his mother could stop him. Pulling the door open Jonny was relieved to see that Sacha had managed to make it – an overly excited Daniel raced into the house, eager to explore the delights it may hold. Typically he didn't pass up the opportunity for a second breakfast so he took Jonny's seat and dug into the food Mrs Maconie foolishly placed within his reach. Deciding to get some air, Jonny showed the little boy tugging at his t-shirt the garden.

Slumping down on the step, Jonny grinned as the little boy stood in awe of the wooden structure in the large tree that Jonny's grandfather's father had made as a boy with his brothers and dad. Shaking his head in response to the 'can I go up' Jonny asked about school and how he was finding it there. He replied as any boy would, with a shrug of the shoulders and a few muttered words along the lines of 'too much work' and Jonny grinned.

Directing the young lad to the toilets, Jonny walked across the grass and looked up into the branches of the tree. Knowing that his mother would flip if she saw him Jonny started to climb the tree, relishing in the mountains of memories that it provided him with. Crawling through the gap in the boards, Jonny pushed aside the cloth door and found himself in the crooked and irregular tree house. Scraps of carpet had been nailed to the floor while the roof was reinforced with a waterproof plastic sheet. Old toys and comics and a few posters littered the space as well as a battery operated CD player and a stack of ruined CDs.

Settling down with his back against the trunk of the tree, he closed his eyes and tried to figure out what it was he was feeling right then. Nervous didn't describe it.

It was more like … that feeling you get when you're about to jump off the diving board into the pool below for the very first time. You're torn between backing out and going through with it because it seems both terrifying and exhilarating at once. You stand there with your toes over the edge, staring down at the water so many metres below you thinking 'why am I doing this?' and wondering if, when your body meets with the water, it will hurt or not. You want to do it, to take that step into the unknown and feel that rush of adrenalin pumping through your body as you fall through the air and then smash into the water.

It was like … the rush you got when you realise you're riding your bike without the stabilizers. So proud and yet scared that one tiny move will cause you to wobble and fall off. You're clutching the handlebars so tightly that your knuckles have gone white because you think that the moment you let go you'll fall. It's exhilarating; to feel the wind rushing past you and to know that you're now 'one of the big kids' because you can do it on your own. You think that nothing can stop you now and that you're finally _free_. Yet part of you is still cautious, still weary that one wrong move, one mistake, will have you howling off home with grazed knees and bruised hands and a dented pride.

It was like … the fear of getting caught sneaking in past curfew, drunk and slightly high off the fumes your mates had been smoking. The joy that you've managed to time it so as to avoid a confrontation at the front door and the worry that they'll be waiting round the corner, ready to pounce mingled together and got your heart pounding – loud enough that you're sure it'll give you away. Scared yet thrilled because you know that it's probably a little _too_ easy and so you take twice as long to get up the stairs and cross the hall to your room; certain that they're awake and listening for any signs of your return.

It was much more like … results day. All the 'oh shit I _know_ I fucked that one up' and the 'well I think that one went alright' mingled together with the pressure of parents and universities and colleges and such like. The dread and the worry and the excitement and the anticipation as you line up to be handed your dull brown envelope from the faceless invigilator making your hand tremble. The annoyance of friends and family trying to peer over your shoulder and read them first; and the relief mixed with elation and disappointment as you read the single letters next to your subjects. And then there's that feeling again; the butterflies in your stomach making you feel physically sick as you realise that now you have to grow up.

It was … it was like the feeling he had when he'd first seen her. The fear that someone would notice her first and the worry that someone had already claimed her as their own. The joy that no one else in the room had noticed her – well, that no one else was going to approach her – leaving him free to walk over to her. The dryness in his throat as he waited for her to notice him and the worry that she'd utter the 'm' word made him almost start sweating.

It was more like the way he'd felt when he realised he'd helped create life. The responsibility crashing down upon him in a sudden moment of 'oh fuck' and the elation, the pure excitement, of knowing what came next. It was like the way his heart had stopped – froze – as they handed the life, the child, to him in that overly-clean room; fear gripping his heart because he was certain that he'd drop his child and pride freezing it because this moment seemed like it would never come. It was much like the way his heart had started hammering in his chest, pounding and beating and drumming away so that he could hear nothing else as he waited for her answer; the answer he'd read on her lips behind her coy smile. It was very much like that moment when he realised he had finally won her heart.

Nervous didn't describe it. Because he wasn't nervous – it went beyond that for today was the day that he would, after a great deal of hard work, finally make her his.

"So this is where ya hiding then?"

Opening his eyes, Jonny watched as his father heaved himself into the construction, ever present pipe clenched between his teeth. "I'm not hiding Pa."

"Oh aye, course you're not," he agreed with a grin.

"I aint!" he protested.

"Well, if you're done with the hidin' … you need to start getting ready me lad; remember, you're meant to be waiting for her!"

"We've got plenty of time then," Jonny grinned.

"That I don't doubt … c'mon help y'wee Pap down now before your Ma goes a blaming me for being late!" Once the two men, father and son, were firmly upon the ground, Mr Maconie threw an arm around his boy's shoulders. "And to think, m'wee rascal Jonny is getting married t'day!"

"Don't cry on me Pap," Jonny cautioned.

He threw his head back and laughed heartily as they re-entered the house where they were immediately chided for 'wasting time' by Mrs Maconie. With a 'yes dear (well mum in Jonny's case) sorry dear' they went their separate ways as Jonny trudged up the stairs for a shower. "And wash your hair Jonathon!"

"Washed you're hair Jonathon?" Michael teased as they crossed paths on the landing a good twenty minutes later.

"Why you don't need me to show you how to wash yours do ya?" His cousin David high-fived him as Michael was beaten in his own game. Bumping into Sacha, Jonny checked – for the seven hundredth time – he had the rings.

"Oh … yeah, about that – I might have left them in my locker on AAU …"

"You what?" he blinked. Laughing, Sacha pulled out a box with two gold rings inside and then chuckled some more as Jonny punched him playfully on the arm. "Whose idea was it to leave you in charge of them anyway?"

"Yours," the registrar reminded him.

"Jonathon! You're _not_ getting married in a towel! Get dressed! David, Oliver and – I'm sorry, what's your name? And the wee lad, he's yours?"

"Sacha, and yes, Daniel is mine."

"Pleased to meet you, now you seem sensible and with a brain; can I leave my son's appearance to you? Splendid! Oh goodness … the button holes need sorting!" Mrs Maconie dashed off down the stairs half-dressed and leaving Jonny wondering why he had let her stay in the house.

Rubbing himself dry with the towel and yanking on a fresh pair of boxers – well, it _was_ a special occasion – Jonny let Sacha, his cousin, and Ollie into the room and watched as they laid out his suit and set his shoes on the chair. They turned to him expectantly. "Never seen a guy get dressed before?"

"Oh … so you think you can manage all this without us then?" Jonny yanked the trousers off the bed and started to pull them on only to be reminded that it would be harder to tuck his shirt in that way by Ollie. Throwing his friend a murderous look, Jonny got dressed his own way and still managed to pass his mother's inspection with flying colours. Handing him his hat – which Jonny planned to 'forget' – she muttered about 'what's wrong with a kilt' and followed Mr Maconie out to the swish cars waiting for them.

Ollie and Sacha were watching him as he lingered behind the group, "ready?" Taking a deep breath and abandoning his hat on the table inside the front door, Jonny nodded once and allowed them to lead him towards the waiting car. Thankfully it was a beautiful summers day – the windows of the cars were rolled down and Jonny didn't realised he'd unbuttoned his top button. The journey to the chapel was both long and short – it seemed to take forever, yet it felt as if he'd only just sat down when the door was opened and he was being urged out of it.

"Safe to travel?" someone was asking, and presumably the answer was yes because the same voice – he later learnt it was Sacha's – said, "yup, full steam ahead Mo."

Lost in the bustle of people, Jonny spotted Serena Campbell in the crowd of faceless people and headed over to her. "How are the nerves?"

"They're not nerves," he muttered, "it more than that."

"So you're not planning on backing out then? Because if you are, then I suggest you do it now while no one is around who has a chance of catching up with you."

"I'm not gonna back out!"

"Oh good, because Jac would be devastated if you did," she smiled at him before she was called away by someone. "Have fun won't you?" she reminded him and he nodded once. The bustle of people was beginning to thin now as they got directed inside the building and to their seats so only a few remained – namely Sacha, and his father.

"Ready son?" the old Scotsman asked, for once without his pipe – although Jonny suspected it was concealed somewhere about him, probably in his hat – and with a look of fierce pride on his weathered face. Shrugging his shoulders, Jonny let his father put the flower into his button hole, then re-button his top button and give him one final inspection.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Good answer," for a moment Jonny thought he was going to shake his hand, but his father surprised him by pulling him into a brief, but real, hug before he let go and hurried into the chapel leaving Jonny to straighten his jacket.

"Well, we'd better get inside …" Sacha said grabbing Daniel by the back of his jacket to stop him running off to investigate the duck pond.

"Yeah … I s'pose we had." Following his best man inside, Jonny thankfully missed the second pair of swish cars pulling up and the gaggle of women getting out of them – mainly his sisters and other female relatives that had taken up the positions of being Jac's 'family' for the day.

Feeling incredibly self-conscience as he stood in front of the alter with the vicar, Sacha and Daniel, Jonny found that his palms were starting to sweat. He could hear his mother muttering 'where is his hat?' and laughed. What was taking them so long? All around him, people were chatting merrily away amongst themselves – probably wondering how long this marriage would last and if Jac would even turn up.

Jonny checked his watch and resigned himself to waiting; she wasn't even late yet.

* * *

"Shit oh shit oh shit shitty shit oh shit oh shit oh shit shitty shit–"

"Stop panicking! Jeeze you're making _me_ worried now!"

"I can't help it … oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit."

"Jac stop!"

"Mummy … is you saying naughty words?"

"I … no, no – it is … alright for grownups to say them Lou."

"Oh. Can I put my dress on now mummy?"

"Go and ask Auntie Sarah to give you a bath first."

"But you said I could have one with you!"

"Okay fine!" Jac snapped.

"Hey, Lou … why don't you go and help with breakfast, yeah?" Mo suggested and they watched the little girl skip off to the kitchen where Jonny's female relatives were taking over the house. "You shouldn't snap at her."

"I know … I'll make it up to her," Jac sighed and let her head fall against the table again. "Buy her that film she wanted or whatever …"

"Yes, because bribery is an excellent way to bring up your child."

"Why do we have to be up so early?" Jac complained for the eightieth time.

"I doubt Jonny would appreciate it if you fell asleep in the middle of the 'I dos'."

"Funny … utterly hilarious Mo; I can't breathe for laughing."

She was spared Mo's reply by the hordes of Jonny's sisters' aunts and cousins all marching in with breakfast – of which Jac was planning have precisely, zip – and set about piling up the table. To save space, Lou sat on her mother's lap and tried to feed her all kinds of crap that made her stomach churn.

It was with relief that Jac escaped to the bathroom to run her bath – even if she had Lou in there with her. At three, the little girl was shaping out to be a miniature version of her mother, complete with red hair and green eyes although she had Jonny's grin and his curly locks. Scooping her up into her arms, Jac jokily pretended to dump her into the warm bath water while she was still wearing her pyjamas.

She squealed and wriggled and clamped her tiny arms round Jac's neck and Jac smiled knowing that her daughter was far happier than she'd ever been as a child. Testing the water, Jac instructed Lou to get undressed and then lifted the little red-head into the water. She pouted until her mother had joined her – the only way she and Jonny could get Lou to wash was sitting in the bath tub with her.

Listening to the girl's chatter Jac let her mind drift as she explored what it was she was feeling and why she felt so … scared?

Maybe … maybe because she was worried it'd go wrong; frightened that she would wake up one morning to find that he no longer loved her like he did now. She didn't think she would cope if that was the case – if Jonny left her then what would she have because he'd take Lou with him; he'd take her daughter away from her. Jac shook her head; no … he wasn't that kind of person.

What if it was the fear that she would ruin it … that she'd say or do something to break him like she had with so many others? Foolishly forget what it was she had and let herself end up in bed with another man – a man who didn't understand her and didn't love her. The fear that she would make a stupid mistake and ruin everything that she had with him had been playing on her mind constantly over the past few weeks.

She blinked and turned away as Lou splashed her in the face with water and the giggled as if it were a fun new game she'd discovered. Pulling the child towards her, Jac proceeded to wash her hair, ignoring the yells of protest and the few pitiful tears. Laughing at the scrunched up face Lou was pulling as Jac poured the water over her head, Jac praised her for not making too much fuss and let her play while she washed her own.

So she was scared she'd ruin this opportunity? Yeah that sounded like her didn't it … well despite all the layers of protection, the frightened little girl she used to be still found a way past those defences at times. But it was normal to be scared wasn't it? To be all 'I am doing the right thing aren't I' whilst _knowing _that he loved you back just as much and knowing that he was shitting himself at the thought of the 'till death do you part' bit.

Seriously, she was willingly choosing to spend the rest of her life with Jonny? Jeeze she really must love him then – to want to put up with him into her old age. They weren't nerves and it wasn't fear; it was more like … apprehension. As if she was worried that something would crop up to make the day that little bit bumpier and cause it not to run as smoothly as planned; and yet unwilling to wait for it to happen – like she was eager for it to begin at the same time. Emotions were strange things … frankly; Jac wasn't at all looking forwards to when Lou started 'growing up' and becoming all mood swings and such like. But then again, it would be funny to watch Jonny cope with them both like that.

A loud rapping on the bathroom door told Jac that she had escaped for long enough and that it was nearly time for the next stage of getting ready. Letting Lou pull the plug out, Jac stepped out of the bath, towel dried her hair and then wrapped herself firmly in a larger towel before lifting a reluctant Lou out of the now empty tub. Smothering her in a fresh towel, Jac emerged from the bathroom carrying her daughter like she used to when she was a baby.

It turned out that Elliot had – at last – arrived while Jac and Lou had been in the bathroom, and the shoulders of at least five of Jonny's female relatives' had visibly relaxed. He stood awkwardly in his suite with women running around him in various stages of getting dressed and in differing degrees of panic. Oddly, now that she'd had her bath and she knew Elliot was here, Jac felt rather calm and collected … or maybe she was just numb to it all.

And then it was all a blur as Mo tried valiantly to fend off Jonny's relations while Jac aided her little girl into the lilac dress that she was going to wear. They all seemed insistent that Jac needed to get ready and that there wasn't time for her to dress her daughter _as well as_ get dressed herself. Typically Jac ignored them and still managed to get all her makeup on and have her hair done before the scheduled 'dress-putting-on-time'.

The relatively plain yet stunningly beautiful white gown – which Jac still felt was too much – fitted as perfectly as it had the few times she'd tried it on in the shops and such. No one spoke as they stood back to admire how she looked and Jac caught sight of Lou giggling away on Elliot's knee. Crouching down to her level – and ignoring all the winces behind her – Jac kissed her daughter on the nose and caused her to giggle all the more.

"What'd you think Lou?"

She nodded and hugged Jac tightly, "mummy looks pretty." Straightening up, Jac was in time to see Elliot wipe a tear from the corner of his eye and she raised her eyebrow in amusement.

And then the posh cars had arrived and Jac suddenly felt rather sick once again. She saw rather than heard Mo's phone ring and the registrar's lips form the question 'can we leave?' presumably the answer was yes because Mo switched off her phone saying, "Well they've got him there so … quick before he realises it's Jac he's agreeing to spend his life with."

Jac didn't dignify that with an answer. Instead she let the gaggle of female Maconies pile into the first car while Mo went with Lou to the second car. Elliot watched the consultant from the doorway, his hat under his arm, as Jac faffed around doing naff all. She wondered round the living room about three times, wondering why she was trying to delay and knowing that Elliot would do his very best to help her if she asked him.

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can."

"Yeah … like all my other relationships have worked out splendidly in the past."

"Do you love him?"

Jac looked across the room towards the professor, "you know I do."

"Then why are you so worried?" Jac floundered as she tried to find the words, "You're not afraid you'll ruin it all are you?" mutely, she nodded and he smiled, "if there is one thing I am sure of today – two things actually; one is that you will _not_ mess this up."

Jac smiled gratefully and allowed him to escort her out of the house and into the waiting car. "And the second thing?" she asked him.

"Just how proud I am of you."

Nothing more was said as they clambered into the car – Mo making sure none of Jac's dress got caught in the door – ready to head to the chapel. Lou sat staring out of the window, pointing out obscure and random things as they passed and then asking what was for lunch. In no time at all they'd arrived … Jac's tightly wrung emotions had reached the point where almost anything would tip her over into hysteria or helplessness.

Skipping joyfully towards the doors, Mo had to grab Lou before she ran inside and disappeared. Letting the female Maconies bustle inside the chapel and take their seats, Jac agreed to Elliot's suggestion of a walk around the gardens since they weren't even late yet. The walk also helped to clear Jac's mind and calm her down so that by the time they'd reached the chapel doors again, she felt ready.

Crouching down so that she was on a level with Lou, Jac cautioned her to be good and to stay with 'auntie Mo' and be quite.

"Can I talk when daddy's kissed mummy?"

She said it so seriously … "then you can talk all you want." Jac watched as Lou grabbed hold of Mo's hand and walked into the building ready to let the vicar that Jac was ready. "Am I really gonna do this?"

"Yes Jac … you are." He offered her his arm and Jac hesitated a fraction of a moment before taking it and letting him guide her into the chapel. He had his OBE award pinned to his chest – Jac had used Lou to persuade him to actually wear it – and seemed every inch the 'proud father' he was pretending to be.

But … he wasn't pretending really, in all fairness he'd watched over Jac like a father since she'd first arrived at Holby, and would continue to do so long after they stopped working together. (Everyone knew that Elliot would work at the hospital until his death bed.) Hoping that she wasn't about to trip on the hem of her dress in front of everyone she worked with, Jonny's family, and her daughter, Jac let Elliot guide her down the aisle towards the irritating Scottish nurse who'd, quite ruthlessly actually, stolen her heart one dull day at a stupid People Skills Course.


End file.
